Unstuck in Time
by falafel-fiction
Summary: SF humour fic. Naomi's people arrive on the island and kill everyone in sight. Desmond is sent hurtling back through time and space. He meets with Charlie Pace in a series of alternative realities and together they attempt to alter the course of fate.
1. Chapter 1

**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** Angst/humour fic. Naomi's people arrive on the island and kill everyone in sight. Desmond is sent hurtling back through time and space. He meets with Charlie Pace in a series of alternative realities and together they attempt to alter the course of fate.  
**Characters:** Desmond, Charlie, Penny and Mrs Hawking.  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Lost.  
**Warnings:** Extreme angst in the first chapter.  
**Authors Note:** Please don't be put off by the beginning! This story starts tragic, but quickly becomes a humour fic. Enough crying and mourning. This story is in loving memory of the Charlie who made us laugh. Thanks as always to pacejunkie for her editing tips.

PROLOGUE 

How could fate have been so cruel?

Desmond lay sprawling on the ground, one bullet lodged in his shoulder and another embedded in his knee. The pool of his own blood was spreading swiftly through the grass. The explosions, the gunfire and the screams were drawing closer now. Above all these sounds, Desmond could hear his own deranged laughter echoing up through the treetops while tears streamed his cheeks.

_This is my fault_, he realised. He laughed again, laughing so hard he thought he might choke. He had sent Charlie to the Looking Glass – sent him to _drown_ – so that these people on the boat could reach the island. Desmond prayed that wherever Charlie was now he was free from the knowledge that his brave beautiful sacrifice had brought only violent bloody death to his friends.

Desmond reached a trembling hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out Charlie's list. These were five best moments of his life. His Greatest Hits. The paper was spattered with blood and frail from the seawater. The note was meant for Claire, but Desmond could no longer deliver it to her. Still he felt like _somebody_ should read this. He let it unfold in his palm and squinted over the bold black letters. Most of the list was now illegible…there was something about being taught to swim, something about being called a hero. It all seemed so painfully ironic. The moment ranked number 1# was the only thing Desmond could clearly discern.

_The night I met you_…Charlie had died for love.

Claire and Aaron had gotten on their helicopter. He hadn't been wrong about that. What Desmond didn't see were the guns being levelled at Claire's back. He didn't see the corpses lying strewn around the chopper; the bodies of the people who had tried to stop them taking her. Desmond shuddered to think what a terrible fate he had inflicted on that poor girl and her baby. This was his fault! He had crashed their plane. He had caused these people to become stranded on this island. And now he had allowed his flashes to be the shaping of their doom.

Desmond rolled onto his side and vomited, sickened by his own crippling shame. He realised then that he hadn't been laughing at all. Those sounds coming from his throat were hacking sobs and retches.

"I'm sorry Charlie…I'm sorry Penny…I was wrong. I should have changed it! I was _supposed_ to change it! I'm so…"

There was another explosion. The wind of this explosion hit him hard in the back and caused the soil beneath him to erupt.

Then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

First Jump

Desmond opened his eyes to discover that he hadn't died.

He was standing on a bustling street, looking down at a tie that lay on the paving stones. This was the same tie that Desmond had removed and thrown down after the interview with Penny's father. He shuddered as he realised that he had been sent back to _this_ _day_ again. He was standing on the pavement outside the Widmore building and the young busker was just finishing his song.

"_I said maaaaybeeeee…you're gonna be the one that saves meeeeeeee…and after aaaaalllll…you're my Wonderwaaaall…" _

The lyrics clawed at his heart, tormenting him. Desmond barged through the throng of onlookers and came to stand in front of Charlie.

"I need to talk to you," he insisted, urgently.

Charlie blinked, startling. "Hey?"

"I need to talk to you _right now_," he demanded again.

Charlie swallowed. He looked nervous and shifty, ready to bolt. "You're not a copper, are you?" he asked with a guilty wince.

"No. Just come with me and I'll explain everything."

Charlie drew back, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, sorry mate…" he muttered, turning his face away. "My mother told me never to go for walks with strange men."

Desmond forced a smile, trying to seem less creepy.

"Well then…maybe you'll join me for a pint in that pub over the road. What do you say, pal? The drinks are on me."

Charlie looked at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Listen…I'm _straight_, okay? Sorry if you got the wrong impression."

"No, it's not like that!" Desmond threw up his hands in exasperation. "I'm not trying to…listen, how old are you?"

"I'm legal, but the answer is still no."

Desmond took a step closer and grasped the sleeve of his leather jacket. His eyes grew tense. His voice became a rattling hiss.

"Five or six years from now you're gonna die! You're gonna drown in an underwater station at the bottom of the ocean."

Charlie's eyes widened, a perplexed smile teasing his lips. He looked nervously to the crowd of onlookers, hoping for their support and possibly their protection. He shook off Desmond's grip on his arm.

"Well, I've had hecklers before, but never death threats!" Charlie said in a loud breezy voice. "Not an Oasis fan I take it, sir?"

The crowd laughed, taking Charlie's side and seeming equally baffled by Desmond. Charlie looked thankful that there were so many witnesses gathered around them. He smiled brightly, encouraging them to stay.

Desmond shook his head, starting to feel desperate. "This is no joke, brother, you've gotta listen to me or else…"

"I'll die horribly? Yeah right..." Charlie rolled his eyes and turned back to the crowd. "So do you guys fancy another song or shall we just stand here listening to this nutter? Can I see a show of hands, please?"

"Charlie, for Godsake, I know you!" Desmond exploded. "We were friends! We were stranded on an island together!"

"This is why we don't do drugs…" Charlie quipped.

At that moment the heavens opened and rain began to pour down on the London streets. The crowd took out their umbrellas and hurriedly dispersed. Charlie packed his guitar away into its case, protecting the instrument from the sudden storm. Then he turned to give Desmond one last suspicious glance before lifting the guitar case and walking briskly away from him.

Desmond held out his hands and felt the rain sliding through his fingers. All those little droplets slipping from his grasp. _Not this time_, he thought. This time he was going to change it. He was going to do it right.

He followed Charlie down the street.


	3. Chapter 3

Second Jump

Desmond sat in a deckchair by the side of a pool.

He blinked in confusion. What had happened to the rainy day in London? It had all suddenly melted away from him. Now he was sitting beneath the shade of a striped umbrella on the patio of some cheap holiday resort. Desmond thought for a moment and then he slowly remembered.

He was at Butlins. This was the last family vacation he had taken before leaving for university. He looked down at his slender limbs and placed a hand to his soft cheeks. He was a teenager. He was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. He was clutching a copy of 'A Christmas Carol' in his hands. Desmond remembered his mother commenting that it was a very odd thing for him to be reading in the summertime. This book had been beginning of his Dickens obsession.

He didn't understand it. Why had he been sent here?

Suddenly his knees were drenched by a torrent of water from the pool. Desmond raised his eyes to see his three younger brothers standing in the shallows. They were waving and gesturing for him to put down his book, stop being such a bore and come to muck around with them in the water.

"Desmond, come on!" one of them urged.

Desmond shook his head. He was in no mood for swimming or splashing games. He was about to turn back to his reading when suddenly something caught his eye. There was a scrawny blonde kid standing nervously on the lip of the pool. His father was in the water with his arms outstretched, promising to catch him. After a brief hesitation, the boy took a deep breath and plunged into the water. He went under for a moment before his dad lifted him in his arms.

"I did it!" the kid exclaimed, astonished with himself.

Desmond smiled. There was something very familiar about this little lad. He couldn't put his finger on it. He watched the father slip his arms beneath his son's chest as he tried a few tentative strokes through the water.

"You've got it!" the man encouraged him, beaming with pride. "You're swimming, Charlie! You're swimming!!"

Desmond flinched, realising.


	4. Chapter 4

Third Jump 

Desmond could feel a pillow beneath his head and a rough blanket draped over his chest. He slowly opened his eyes and found he was now sprawled on the higher tier of a bunk bed. There was a little toy rabbit and copy of 'Slaughterhouse 5' lying on the mattress beside him. He opened the novel and read its opening line – _'Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time'_. Desmond swallowed. This was what was happening to him. He had come unstuck in time.

Desmond climbed down from the bed and looked cautiously around him. He was in the Swan Station…the one time and place that he wasn't terribly keen on revisiting. He wandered the corridors of the underground bunker. His fillings hurt as he passed by the magnetic wall. He strolled into the control room and glanced up at the timer. Four minutes from now he would need to input the code. He shook his head. Same old hatch. Same old tedious routine to save the world. He hissed through his teeth and turned back into the living area.

Desmond halted, blinking his eyes. Something was different. There was an acoustic guitar lying on the couch beside the record player. Desmond had seen this instrument before, but he couldn't understand what it was doing here. It really made no sense for the guitar to be here…unless…

Desmond suddenly heard the front door slam and feet drumming on the floor. He turned to see Charlie marching in from the corridor. He was wearing a Dharma boiler suit. His blonde hair was slicked with sweat and he was gasping for breath. One of his eyes was bruised and swollen. Charlie reached into his pocket, took out a chain with a key attached and threw it on the floor.

"That _git_ Kelvin stole our boat!" Charlie yelled hotly.

Desmond frowned, bewildered. "What?!"

"That's what he's been doing on all those walks!" Charlie continued to rant. "He's been fixing her up so he can do a runner and leave us with the sodding button. I tried to stop him, but he punched me in the face!"

Charlie gestured to his black eye and then threw himself down on the sofa. Desmond stood gaping and shaking his head.

"_What_…what are you doing here?!"

Charlie snorted. "I ask myself the same question every day, Dessy. You're supposed to be the one with the foresight. I'm just the dumb mug that puts my faith in you. But you usually know what you're talking about. Why else do you think I came with you on your little quest around the world?"

Desmond lent against the wall, struggling to fathom what was happening here and what had changed. A thought occurred to him.

"Kelvin's gone…" he murmured. "Charlie, what's the date?"

"September something. September 22nd I think."

Desmond's eyes widened. Panic bells were ringing in his head. He pulled Charlie off the couch and dragged him around to the store room. He took a rucksack and quickly began to fill it with bandages and medical supplies. His breath hitched as he heard the alarm sounding in the control room. He shoved the bag into Charlie's arms and then hustled him towards the front door.

"Desmond, what the hell…!" he protested.

"Charlie, I need you to take these things down to the beach," he instructed. "Hurry brother! There's gonna be a plane crash. There are gonna be a lot of people injured. When you find the wreckage look for a man called Jack. He's a tall guy, American. Give this bag to him. He's a doctor..."

"Aren't you going to push the button?!" Charlie interrupted.

Desmond froze, considering. What if he just pushed the button? Would that simple action be enough to change things? To save them all?! Desmond hesitated. He only had a few precious minutes to decide this.

"No…no, the button isn't the solution. That's not what needs to be done. I have to…I have to turn the failsafe key."

Yes, that was it! The ring lady said that pushing the button was just leading up to him finding the courage to use the failsafe. When he was pushing the button he was just holding his finger in the dam. The key was the important part…wasn't it? Desmond was so confused. What was he supposed to do?

Charlie stood gawking at him. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"Usually," Desmond conceded. "I'm improvising here, Charlie. Maybe I'll make it better. Maybe I'll make things worse. All I know is that turning that key feels like the _right_ thing to do. I've gotta do it right!"

Charlie looked like he was going to object. Desmond piled several blankets into his arms and gave him another shove towards the door, ordering him to go. He ran back through to the living area, snatched up the failsafe key, charged into the control room and leapt down the trapdoor. The alarm was echoing around his skull as he crawled towards the keyhole. But the hatch wasn't shaking this time. There was no voice speaking the words 'System failure'. He was early.

Desmond took a deep breath and crossed himself. This task wasn't any less daunting the second time round. He realised there was another reason he needed to turn the key now. He needed to return to that day in London and tell Charlie about the island. As far as Desmond knew this moment was his only portal.

"I love you, Penny…" he whispered.

With those magic words, he turned the key.


	5. Chapter 5

Fourth Jump

Desmond found himself in the rain again. He was back on the streets of London. From the looks of it he was somewhere near to Covent Gardens. Desmond couldn't tell whether this was the same day in the rain or a different one. He was standing in the mouth of an alley. A few yards away Charlie was talking with a Middle Eastern woman. They were both soaked and shivering.

"You are a hero, sir…" the woman told him with an earnest expression. "…and don't let anyone ever tell you differently."

Desmond ducked out of sight. He watched as the woman shook Charlie's hand and then left the alley. Charlie closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, grinning and panting for breath. Desmond noticed that somebody had dropped a knife on the ground close to Charlie's feet. He looked at it for a moment. Then he moved quickly into the alley and snatched up the weapon. Charlie was just opening his eyes when Desmond slammed him into the wall and put a hand over his mouth. He raised the knife up before Charlie's face and watched his eyes widen in fear. In all honestly Desmond was feeling equally terrified.

"_We need to talk…_" he insisted.

Desmond ordered Charlie to keep quiet. He slipped one hand underneath his leather jacket and held the knife flat against the small of his back. Desmond then picked up the guitar case, which Charlie had dropped, and started marching him towards his flat. As they walked Charlie glanced pleadingly at passers-by, but none of them paid any attention to his looks of distress.

When they reached the flat, Desmond shoved Charlie through into the corridor and then locked the door behind them. Charlie noticed a phone, sitting on a small table in the hallway, and lunged for it. Before he could dial, Desmond ripped the cord out of the wall. Charlie gasped in alarm as Desmond then steered him through into the kitchen and pushed him into a chair.

"Just sit down and listen!" Desmond barked.

"Des?" a voice called from the bedroom. Penny wandered into the kitchen area. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"

Charlie was immediately on his feet again, his face flushing with outrage as he pointed a furious finger at Desmond.

"Lady, your 'sweetheart' is bloody lunatic!" he fumed with righteous anger. "He just jumped me in an alleyway and then dragged me here with a sodding knife at my back! The man's a complete and utter psycho!"

Penny looked horrified. "Is this true, Desmond?"

Before he could explain, Charlie interrupted him again.

"And you should probably know, missus…he's not really into women. He was trying to chat me up before when I was busking."

"No, I bloody well wasn't!" Desmond snapped.

Charlie opened his mouth to rant some more, but his words were overtaken by a fit of coughing and rasping. "My throat's knackered!" he complained, his voice hoarse. "I've been singing all day…"

"Shut up and get yourself a drink then."

He nodded and then scowled at Desmond again. "Just so you know, when I get my voice back I'm yelling for help."

Charlie marched over to the fridge. Desmond turned to see Penny wringing her hands and regarding him with a fearful concern.

"Desmond…what are you doing?! What on earth has happened between you and my father this morning to make you…"

"I didn't get the job. But that's not important now."

Penny's mouth gaped open. She shook her head, incredulously. "No indeed. Why bother finding work when you can kidnap street musicians! Yes, it all makes perfect sense. Is this another one of your callings?"

"Something like that," Desmond answered, his tone serious.

Penny frowned and glanced across the room at Charlie. He was standing beside their fridge, holding a bottle of Dom Perignon.

"Bloody hell…" Charlie murmured, sounding impressed. "Are you people rich or something? This stuff is really pricy, you know..."

"You can have it," Penny said, quickly. "Pour yourself a glass."

Charlie looked at her in surprise. "Are you serious, missus?!" he exclaimed. His fingers were already tearing at the foil.

Penny smiled. "If you'll promise not to turn my boyfriend into the police then you can take anything you like from our fridge."

Charlie's eyebrows leapt on his forehead. He suddenly seemed very cheerful about his situation. He popped the cork of the champagne, letting it fizz over onto the floor. He took a swig straight from the bottle.

"Cheers darling!" said Charlie, raising a clumsy toast. "_Um_…this is lovely. And now you mention it I am pretty hungry…"

"Please," Penny encouraged. "Help yourself."

Charlie grinned, happily. "That's very kind of you, love. You know, if things are rocky between you and your mad boyfriend, I would just like to say I _am_ single and I've always had a thing for posh birds."

Penny managed to keep her smile in place.

"Thanks…that's an interesting offer."

Charlie winked and turned back to rummaging the fridge. Penny shook her head again and fixed Desmond with an exasperated look.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" she prompted.

"I've…I've been sent here from the future," said Desmond. There was really no way to say it without sounding ridiculous. "I've been sent back in time to change things. A few years from now me and this lad here will be marooned on an island. I'm gonna be having visions of his death and he's gonna drown in an underwater station. Then the boat will come and _that_ will be the ruin of us all!"

Penny squinted, folding her arms. "You've seen…_the future_?"

"No Pen! I've _lived_ the future. I can prove it."

"How are you going to do that, dear?" she asked, dubiously.

Desmond had been prepared for this. "Tomorrow night the three of us will go down to the pub. They'll be a football match on. Graybridge are gonna win, coming back with two goals in the last two minutes. Then Jimmy Lennon will hit the bartender with a cricket bat. Just come and see. Let me prove it!"

Penny sighed and lowered herself into a chair. She looked across the table at Charlie. The young musician had opened a box of gourmet chocolates and was busy making a sandwich out of her most expensive cheeses.

"So what do you think about all this?" Penny asked him.

Charlie shrugged. "I'll just go with the flow…"


	6. Chapter 6

Fifth Jump

Desmond's forehead was resting on a wooden tabletop, his ear pressing against the sleeve of his habit. He could feel his hand clutching a bottle of wine, though from the way his head was spinning he gathered that most of this wine had been poured down his throat already. Desmond sniggered. He remembered this moment. He was in the cellar below the monastery. This was the night he had gotten pissed and Brother Campbell had sent him away.

Desmond lifted his head from the table. He raised his eyes to see a young altar boy sitting opposite him. It took him a moment to recognise this boy as Charlie. He looked about fifteen years old. His face was beardless and cherubic. His eyes were bleary and his hair was rumpled. Desmond noticed that Charlie was also clasping a wine bottle in his hand. There were red stains on his white surplice.

"What…what are you doing _here_?!" Desmond asked.

Charlie shrugged, not quite seeming to understand the question.

"You know…the usual…" he slurred. "Sunday service, choir, confession…you came up to me and said that you needed to talk to me about something…and you said that we would be needing a very stiff drink!"

Charlie grinned and raised the bottle to his lips.

"_Ah_…I'm with you…" said Desmond, feeling like he was catching up with this time pocket. "So what have I told you so far?"

"Something about an island…" Charlie answered, vaguely. "Some island that we're going to in the future. I forget the rest."

"Right," Desmond nodded, wondering how to progress. He rubbed his temples and sighed. "_Christ_…the Abbot is not gonna be happy with me when he finds out I've got one of the altar boys hammered."

Charlie giggled and suddenly burst into song.

"_Hark! The herald angels sing..._" The hymn trailed away. He wrinkled up his nose. "Do you know any good drinking songs?"

Desmond smiled. "I know a song about a girl with one leg and a heart of gold." He shook his head and then raised his hand. "But seriously, brother…_don't_ _sing_! You realise that I'm gonna get kicked out for this. When the other monks find out what I've done…I'm gonna get fired."

Charlie squinted at him. "Can monks _get_ fired?!"

"Indeed they can, laddie," he confirmed.

Charlie smirked, seeming very amused by the idea.

"You're gonna get fired for being monken drunk!" he exclaimed.

"Don't you mean…a drunken monk?"

Charlie blinked a few times. "What did I say?"

Desmond shrugged and then burst out laughing. His elbow slipped and he spilt the rest of his wine over the table. Charlie started laughing too, laughter that echoed off the stone walls. He lurched backwards and tumbled from the bench, a fall that was so comical Desmond thought he might laugh himself sick. Their hysterics slowly died down. Charlie lay on the floor, clutching his mouth, having given himself the hiccups. Desmond rubbed his temples again, struggling to comprehend how this strange little episode fit in with the overall picture.

"Aye…they _are_ gonna kick me out for this…and you're so pissed that you won't remember anything in the morning. Not to worry. We'll meet again. Then we'll be moving onto a greater calling…"

Charlie moaned and curled himself into a ball. Desmond suddenly found that holding his head aloft was far too much of a strenuous effort. He allowed it to slowly slump back down onto the tabletop.


	7. Chapter 7

Sixth Jump

"Wake up…you bloody nutter…_wake up_!"

There was a hand slapping him across the face. He squeezed his eyelids together and groaned. His naked skin was raw and his head was pounding. He could feel the grass under his back. He blinked against the sunlight and focused on Charlie who was kneeling beside him, panting fearfully.

"Jesus!" Charlie gasped. "I thought you were dead…"

Charlie helped him to sit upright. Desmond noticed the Englishman had thrown a blanket over his pelvis to spare them both blushes. He rose to his feet and tied the blanket around his body like a toga.

"What are you doing here, brother?" Desmond asked, frowning at Charlie. "I thought I told you to get down to the beach."

Charlie's jaw dropped in indignation.

"Oh pardon me! I'm afraid I got a mite distracted when the ground started shaking, the sky turned purple and I thought the world was going to end! Thanks for the heads up about that, you wanker! I thought I better come back and check you hadn't blown yourself to bits! What did you _do_, Des?!"

He shook his head. "Come on!"

Desmond started sprinting towards the beach with Charlie trailing behind him, barely managing to keep pace with him. When he emerged onto the sand he was shocked to find only calm seas and silence. There was no plane crash, no burning wreckage, no screaming people…the beach was deserted.

Charlie came staggering out of the jungle and stood beside him, wheezing for breath and scrunching his hair as he gazed around.

"What the hell did you do, Des?!" he asked once more, a mounting panic in his voice. "_Christ…_you've wiped out the universe, haven't you? I always knew you were gonna end up doing that one of these days!"

"I've not wiped out the universe," he muttered.

"Bet you have! Where's this bleeding plane of yours, hey?!"

"Charlie…_shut up_," he said, firmly.

"Oh, excuse me for being a tad rattled by the whole island vibrating! Would you care to venture a guess as to what's going on?!"

Desmond sat down in the sand, holding his head, as he considered what had changed in this timeline and what the implications were.

"The plane hasn't crashed. If the plane hasn't crashed that means…that means they've escaped…it means _fate_ hasn't caught them this time. It was fate that brought them to the island. All those people who died in the crash and who died after the crash…they are gonna survive! We've saved them, brother!"

Desmond smiled, a stupendous sense of achievement flooding through him. Charlie was a little less enthused. He rolled his eyes.

"So that just leaves you, me, the hostiles and the smoke monster stuck on this island for the rest of eternity. Wonderful."

Desmond sighed. "You forgot the crazy French woman…"

"AND the crazy bloody French woman!"

Charlie sat down beside him in a sulk. Desmond ignored his mood and concentrated on the puzzle of time and events in his mind.

"It was the discharge…the sky turning purple…_that_ was what made the island visible! That was how Naomi's team found us. Now there's only one thing left for us to do. We have to go down to the Looking Glass…"

Charlie frowned. "What's the Looking Glass?"

"It's an underwater station," he answered, carelessly.

Desmond winced as Charlie's eyes grew wide and appalled. He jumped to his feet and took several steps back from Desmond.

"No bloody way!" he seethed.

"Charlie, wait…just listen to me…"

"That's the place where I drown isn't it? Forget it! I'm not going down there. You think I'm daft? I'm going back to the hatch."

Charlie started marching off towards the tree line.

"The hatch imploded!" Desmond called after him. "There's nothing left of it now but a huge smoking crater. But if you want to storm off in a temper I'm sure it's perfectly safe for you out in that jungle."

Charlie halted, turned and retreated a few paces.

"Fine!" he exclaimed, throwing up his arms. "I'll live on the beach. I'll build myself a little hut, I'll eat mangos…_you_ just stay away from me, alright? From now on that's your side of the beach and this is mine!"

Charlie picked up a piece of deadwood and dragged it over the sand, making a line between himself and Desmond. When this was done, Charlie raised the thin branch his fist and waved it menacingly.

"If you cross the line, I'll hit you with my stick!"

"Terrifying." Desmond leaned back on his elbows. "Just so you know, brother…a few months from now I'm gonna start seeing visions of your death. It's really up to me whether I chose to warn you about them."

Charlie shook his head in disbelief, looking close to tears.

"I'm stuck on an island in the middle of bloody nowhere with a crazy naked Scotsman who's trying to get me killed!" he lamented to the world in general. "Why does this stuff always happen to _me_?!"


	8. Chapter 8

Seventh Jump

Desmond was still staring over the ocean, only now he was at the port in Dover. He was standing on one of the jetties where a long line of sailing boats were being loaded with supplies, ready to embark upon Charles Widmore's solo race around the world. Penny was standing beside Desmond and his boat _'The Elizabeth'_. She was holding his hand, her eyes welling up with tears.

"Why are you doing this?" Penny asked. "If you know you're going to end up stuck on that island then why are you going?"

Desmond considered her question for a moment. It was a fair enough question. Yet with a strange certainty he knew the answer.

"If I don't push that button every single one of us is dead."

Penny laughed, grimly. "So you're off to save the world, Desmond?"

He shrugged. "It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it."

Penny wiped her face with a handkerchief and glanced to the deck where Charlie was standing. He averted his eyes, pretending that he hadn't been watching their goodbye. He carried his guitar case down into the cabin.

"This is meant to be a _solo_ boat race," she pointed out.

Desmond smirked and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm bringing a stowaway along with me. I reckon I can hide him in the wee cabinet under my bed. No one will notice him. He's only small."

Penny wasn't amused. She narrowed her eyes.

"You're taking him with you. Even though you've said that he is going to die on this island…you're _still_ taking him along?!"

Desmond sighed. He knew the answer to this one too.

"Me and Charlie are in this together," he said simply. "I don't know why, but that's how it is. Besides…three years from now I am gonna need a musician to input a code so that we can send you a distress signal."

Penny snorted and started weeping once again.

"Three years!" she said through gritted teeth. "I want to come too, Des! I can't stand the thought of being without you for so long…"

He swallowed and shook his head firmly.

"If you come with us there'll be nobody there to pick up Charlie's transmission. This is our one chance, Pen! You've got to find the island before Naomi's boat. You have to get there first! Do you understand?"

"And what about Charlie?" she persisted. "Will you to be able to save him this time or are you leading him to his death again?"

Desmond sighed, heavily. "I don't know," he confessed. "That's the one piece of the puzzle I've always tried to change, but I…I don't know if I can. I think the universe wants him as a sacrifice or something...I don't know why. I've never understood it. But if it's possible for me to save him, I will."

Penny whimpered and wrapped her arms around him.

"I don't understand it either, love…" She whispered faintly, her tears falling on his shoulder, "…but I have faith in you."

Desmond held her tight. His eyes were welling up too. He glanced back onto the deck where Charlie was rigging the sail. The young Englishman noticed him crying and flashed him a sympathetic smile. Desmond buried his face in Penny's shoulder and sobbed. It was happening again. He was leaving his girl behind in England. He was taking his friend on a boat to the place of his death. These were the biggest mistakes of his life and it seemed like he was doomed to make them over and over again. But what choice did he have? If he didn't do these things the world would end. Desmond wept bitterly...because it felt like his world was ending anyway.

_I can't do this again_, he thought desperately to himself. _I don't want to go to that bloody island! I want to stay here with them. Please don't make me go..._

But there was no use in trying to hold onto this moment.

Desmond was already slipping away.


	9. Chapter 9

Eighth Jump 

"_Funny now…you finally see me standing here…Funny now…I'm crying in the rain…all aloooone…I try to be invincible…together noooow…we can be saaaaved…"_

Desmond blinked his eyes. He found himself sitting in a smoky barroom. On the stage before him two young musicians were standing before a set of microphones, drawing to the end of a song. The singer was tall with short brown hair and striking blue eyes. The guitarist was Charlie, his hair long, blonde and unkempt. Desmond looked to the other occupants of his table. He was sitting with Penny and her childhood friend Lucy Heatherton. The two women were laughing over their empty drink glasses and whispering to each other under their breath.

Desmond breathed a sigh of relief. It looked as though they hadn't gone on the boat after all. They had stayed in England. They were safe and content.

"That singer is bloody gorgeous!" Lucy hissed to Penny.

"He's also married," Penny informed her. "His brother is single if you're interested. And apparently he likes posh birds."

"Well, he's rather cute too. Could do with being taller, but cute all the same. Is he the one you were on the island with, Des?"

Desmond blinked, perplexed. He listened to the sounds of the barroom and realised that it was buzzing with Australian accents. It appeared they were the lone British crowd in an Oz watering hole.

Before he could answer Lucy's question, the barroom erupted in applause. The two brothers bowed and then left the stage, heading directly for Desmond's table. Penny rose to her feet, gave Charlie a hug and then eagerly introduced him to Lucy. The elder brother held out his palm.

"Desmond, right?" he asked.

"Aye…" he replied, accepting the handshake.

The man smiled and sat down beside him.

"I'm Liam…good to meet you at last. Charlie has been telling me all sorts of barmy stories about you. He says you saved us both from becoming drug-addicted rockstars when you took him off on that boat race. I'm not sure I believe that, but still…thanks for looking out for him, mate. I've not been right these last few years without him. He's my only family, you know…"

Desmond nodded, somewhat confused. "No bother, pal."

"My round!" Penny said, abruptly, waving a note. "Desmond, would you be a darling and go to the bar to get these boys a drink. They've been singing up there for hours! And me and Luce are on G&T's..."

Desmond smiled. Penny was tipsy. She was so adorable when she was drunk. He took her money and wandered up to the counter.

"Can I have three pints of Fosters and two gin and tonics," said Desmond, as soon as he could get the barman's attention.

"I'll get these…" said a strangely familiar voice.

Desmond turned to see an old woman sitting up to the bar, reading a newspaper. He recognised her from the ring shop in London. It was Mrs Hawking.

"What the…" he stammered. "Why are you…"

"You saved the world, Desmond," Mrs Hawking remarked blandly. "The least that I can do is buy you a few drinks."

"No, I mean…why are you in Australia?"

"It said on the news they had discovered an island where dangerous experiments were being conducted outside the knowledge of the government. They said a woman called Penelope Widmore had located this island after a man named Charlie Pace sent her a transmission from an underwater station."

Desmond glanced back to the table where Charlie was leaning forwards on his elbow and chatting flirtatiously with Lucy Heatherton.

"But…but Charlie drowned in that station."

The old woman shook her head. "Not this time, he didn't."

Desmond frowned. "Well, how did he escape?"

"He locked the door from the other side."

Desmond blinked. "_What_?!" he spluttered, shaking his head. "If it was that easy then why didn't he do that the first time?"

Mrs Hawking sighed with a weary superiority.

"The first time Charlie believed it was his destiny to drown in that station. He thought that it had to happen in order for Claire and her baby to be rescued by the helicopter. But in this timeline the plane never crashed and Charlie and Claire never met. So he had no reason to sacrifice his life. "

Desmond swallowed. "They never met…?"

She nodded. "Probably for the best. Such a rash decision for the boy to throw his life away for a girl he had only known a few months."

He smiled sadly. "Aye, I suppose so…but…"

"But what Desmond?" she asked.

Desmond sighed. "Charlie said in his note that meeting Claire was the best moment of his life. Now he has lost that moment."

The woman tutted. "Well, things _change_ when you tamper with the universe, Mr Hume! The pieces of the puzzle shift around. I'm sorry, but you can't have everything the way that you want it." She smiled suddenly, looking back to her newspaper. "But, of course…if a thing is meant to happen."

She laid the paper flat on the bar and pointed to an advert in the lonely hearts column. Desmond hunched forwards to read it – _Single white female (slim, petite, blonde hair, blue eyes) seeks funny friendly companion. My likes include astrology, nature, writing and taking long walks on the beach. I have an infant son so must enjoy children. Contact #4815162342_. This all sounded very familiar. Desmond looked searchingly at Mrs Hawking waiting for her to confirm his suspicions.

"When Claire Littleton arrived in Los Angeles she found there was no couple waiting for her at the airport," she explained. "She spent a week trying to locate them without success. By the time she tried to arrange a return flight to Sydney, the doctors said she was too heavily pregnant to fly. She had the baby in America. After Aaron was born she changed her mind about the adoption."

She looked back to the advert and winced sympathetically.

"I'm afraid that she hasn't had many responses yet. Most men are scared away by that child of hers. It's too much responsibility for them. What she needs is a chap with a little more courage and staying power."

Desmond smiled at her. Mrs Hawking smiled back.

"I'm going to play the jukebox," she told him.

She turned from the bar, leaving Desmond with her newspaper. He was still staring at the advert when a hand clapped his shoulder.

"How long does a man have to wait to get a drink, hey?!" Charlie grinned, snatching a pint from the bar and sitting beside him. He hiked his thumb over his shoulder. "You see that Lucy girl…I'm in there!"

"I'm not so sure she's the one for you, mate."

Desmond ripped out the newspaper advert and pressed it into his hand. Charlie peered over the small smudgy message. He laughed, shaking his head.

"What?! You think I need a blind date? Who is this girl, Des?"

"_She_ is your destiny, brother," Desmond answered.

Charlie frowned. "Aren't we supposed to be avoiding that?"

He shrugged. "Maybe fate is worth a go sometimes."

Desmond reached into his pocket, wrenched out a handful of change and passed it to Charlie, nodding him towards the phone that hung on the wall. Charlie seemed rather bemused, but he had trusted Desmond for this long, so he was willing to follow through with his suggestion. He sauntered over to the phone and started dialling the number. Desmond was just heading back to their table with the drinks when a familiar song came on the jukebox, causing him to smile.

"_Nobody can tell ya…there's only one song worth singing…they may try and sell ya…cause it hangs them up to see someone like yooooouuuuuuu…..but you've gotta make your own kind of music…"_

THE END


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